The Underhanded Haven
by Mrs-N-Uzumaki
Summary: Her neck moved slightly, indicating that she missed the sensation of his lips on hers again. Draco didn't complain. He never did.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so what was supposed to have been a little prose that I wrote to just get out of my comfort zone as a writer, has become an official fanfiction. It simply started with a little Dramione sketch (which can be found here, minus the spaces, **mrs-n-uzumaki . tumblr(DOT COM)/post/59508960091/so-this-took-a-good-agonisin g-half-hour-and-im-so#notes**) has turned to be a longer fic demanded by my amazing tumblr folks and with an adorable comic strip (which will make sense after chapter 2) found here: **mrs-n-uzumaki . tumblr(DOT COM)/post/60529213045/request-the-underhanded-have n-fan art-by#notes**

Basically, if I wanted Dramione to happen canon-wise, if would've been like this.

Disclaimer: Maybe I didn't make it clear in the statement above. IF I owned the series, Dramione _would've_ been canon.

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**The Underhanded Haven**

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**Chapter 1**

They shouldn't have been doing this. It was wrong, and they both knew it. Yet, all they felt was nothing but intoxicated passion and destructive excitement burning between the two. Every feel, every touch, every heated kiss sparked electricity (as clichéd as it sounded in Hermione's head). Perhaps because it seemed 'forbidden' that made the whole thing alluring. They still both hated each other -very much so- but they were okay with that; because they diverted all that passionate loathing into their wild nights, a silent agreement occurring each time that this was a much more satisfying way to relieve all the antagonism built between them over the years; though more so on Malfoy's part.

Draco had stopped thinking about the situation after their fifth night together. Thinking about it made him dizzy and frustrated and, ultimately, it was headache-inducing. He didn't know what she felt about it, whether the feeling was reciprocal. Merlin, he _hoped_ it was, because there was no way he could deal with anything otherwise. When feelings get involved it would become a troublesome inconvenience (and that would be putting it lightly). Things would just get complicated and downright messy.

He inhaled deeply after he reluctantly broke from their lip-lock, her flowery scent filling his nostrils. His eyes, drunk with lust, trailed over her flushed face and swollen lips. She curved her neck as an invitation. Draco didn't hesitate for a second.

She loved it when he did that with his tongue. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand up from all the tingling phenomenon he knew he was inflicting; and even though she would never admit it out loud to him because it would boost his already titanic ego, he was right - he really did have a skill. She felt his hair beneath her light tugging, her fingers constantly long to stroke through those feathery tips. Even when they exchanged a discreet glance outside their haven she always pondered when she could caress those platinum-blond, apple-scented locks again. And she knew he loved it when she did that too because she could always feel the vibration of his subtle groan against his Adam's apple. He always smelt wonderful too. He smelt of light cologne just enough to tease, and lust just enough to make her wilder than her normally composed demeanour. Just then, his fingers shadowed upwards from her stomach and just below the frame of her breasts.

Her neck moved slightly, indicating that she missed the sensation of his lips on hers again. Draco didn't complain. He never did.

xXx

"Same time, same place?" he asked as they finished yet another of their nocturnal routine, referring to the next night they may meet up. He slipped on his robes and fixed his messy hair riffled on account of his partner's fingers. He then turned as the muggleborn beauty stood, using her hands to fix her curls and straighten her nightwear as a delay to answer the question.

Hermione sighed, her mind saying no, but her instincts, or more precise, her bodily functions saying yes.

When Draco saw the uncertain look on her face he leaned down and gently brushed his lips on hers; he captured her moist, upper lip lightly. It wasn't anything drastic or bold like his earlier raptures just moments ago, just a simple peck for reassurance. Hermione's stomach fluttered, the vibration of the butterfly's wings reaching towards her beating heart. He always did that to remind her that she didn't have to do anything; it was all up to her. This took a huge part in why she always came back; knowing that he let the decision be hers, for once, allowing her to be in power of the one thing between the two without him putting up a fight for it.

Hermione sighed again, this time contently, licking her lips. "We'll see," she whispered, which was always code for 'I tell myself I won't now but I'll end up doing it later anyway'. Draco had given her a hint of one of his deadly, charming smiles - something he had been doing for her more often; something Hermione certainly didn't complain about. She had to admit, he was dangerously charming when he needed to be. She finally understood why the female population of Hogwarts seem to discreetly check him out when he wasn't aware of it, which was, surprisingly, most of the time. Or he was, but didn't give the time of day about it, certainly not after he reacquainted himself with the close-friend of his long-time nemesis.

Which was partly why Draco had kept coming back during their first few weeks together; to see the look on Saint Potty's face when he correctly hinted on Granger's extracurricular activities, to tear the Golden Trio apart would've been the icing on his deliciously creamy, cauldron cake of a year. However, after a month or so, he found himself actually…enjoying their passionate sessions, which was enigmatically interesting for him because they hadn't even reached the consummation of their practice yet. Right now, it was just pure lip-tugging, hair-stroking, neck-sucking, chest-fondling, bottom-caressing snog-fest (although he wouldn't mind adding oral-indulging to the list anytime soon). But don't get him wrong, he would still openly devour the appalled looks of the pathetic Gryffindor faces with a pat on the back if the time ever came.

Hermione awkwardly cleared her throat, snapping them both back to the present night-time where they stood in front of each other. Suddenly Draco's fingers hovered over his accomplishments on Hermione's neck, softly polishing the blemishes – or as she liked to put them, love bites. Not that they were in love of course, she quickly resolved, just that it made their situation sound more tender than it actually was, made her feel less guilty. Hermione suddenly felt timid under the watchful gaze of her snogging partner, no matter how striking the moonlight made his eyes glimmer of an intense shade of grey-blue. She teared her own gaze away to check her endeavours inflicted on his neck; although, unlike her, he didn't feel the least bit shy about showing them off. She brushed her index finger on a particular mark behind his ear.

"You did some handy work on that one, I'll give you that," he remarked.

Hermione felt her face heating up slightly and thanked her lucky stars that it was dark. "I did go a little overboard tonight, didn't I?" she replied sheepishly. "Sorry, I guess had a rough day and-"

"Don't," he stopped her. "Don't ever apologise for this." She gave him a slightly confused smile and was met with a mischievous one in turn. "It's ravishing."

She chuckled softly. "Never thought you'd associate me with anything as ravishing."

"Hm," Draco mumbled thoughtfully. "Never thought you'd associate with me period."

"Well you do have the tendency to drive people away with that sneer of yours."

Draco let out mockingly offended scoff. "Firstly, that would be the _coquette_ _couver_ you're referring to, not _sneer_," he said, sneeringly, while Hermione laughed 'the _what_?', "And secondly, that was not was I meant."

She gave him a full-blown smile. "Okay, what did you mean then, oh coquettish one?"

He positioned an unruly curl sticking out from the side of her head flatly in its place. Hermione waited. "That you're not the Austerius of Hogwarts."

Hermione sent him a look of confusion, unfamiliar with the reference. "What exactly are you implying?"

He put his hands in the pockets of his blue pyjama bottoms. "I'm saying, Miss Granger, that you have a pair."

She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms in a playful manner. "And you thought otherwise?"

The Malfoy heir stepped closer to her, releasing his hands from his pockets and placing them on her waist to draw her closer. "I meant a pair-" he leaned down her neck, lips trailing, "-for a certain-" he kissed her marks, "-rebellion streak."

Hermione exhaled in satisfaction, her hands immediately rubbing his shirt-covered chest, then up to encircle his upper shoulders to encourage him. "Did you forget you're talking to a Gryffindor?" she said, breathlessly. She felt him stop for a split second and heard a muffled 'hm' as if giving it some thought.

A moment later, his head lifted, much to Hermione's dissatisfaction, and he breathed deeply. "It's almost midnight," he said as he released her.

Hermione broke out of her blissful daze. "Right. We should be heading back," she said, her tone of displeasure not going unnoticed.

Malfoy smirked. "Disappointed?"

"Are you?" she challenged.

He pursed his lips in contemplation, trying to conceal another smirk that was about to break his features. But before he could provide a response a resounding clank grabbed their attention. Their heads immediately turned towards the direction of the noise, eyes widening in fear they were caught. Their eyes surveyed the astronomy tower, searching for the source of the sound, when another sound captured their gazes. They looked up to meet the steely orbs of Mrs Norris sitting atop of a dusty cupboard, her tail swinging behind her where an unfortunate pot got in its path and was left to plummet to the grounds.

Hermione heard Malfoy curse the cat under his breath.

"Get to your tower," he instructed her, even though his tone suggested 'demanded'. Although, Hermione didn't complain; she immediately took off, and once out of his sight, wrapped Harry's invisibility cloak around her. She held her breath when she saw Filch on his way to his pet and hoped Malfoy had gotten out in time.

xXx

_Four months earlier…_

Snape was not having a good day. Actually, scratch that, not a good week. He had just spent an insurmountable waste of time deducting points and handing out detention to a group of delinquents, which he had been doing for the past two weeks straight. A few weeks ago, a first year had started a small, mischievous prank on an opposing house. The problem really commenced back when that house decided to get back; and before everybody knew it, the entire school started plotting against each other. The pranks had become so out of control the teachers had to call an early staff meeting that morning to confront the issue. Which led Snape to this present, where he was already in a foul mood after leaving the conference.

Snape swaggered into the first lesson of the morning, his cloak tailing behind him, hushing down his fifth year students with his entrance. A minute of complete quiet had undergone amongst everyone in the classroom before Snape made a start to begin his lecture.

"In light of recent events and the aftermath of infantile shenanigans amongst the entire school, Professor Dumbledore had suggested uniting the opposing students with teamwork. Most professors, myself included, are inclined to agree with his method." He started pacing down the centre of the classroom, his hands laced together behind him as he eyed every student within the vicinity. "Which is why I've decided to pair you up myself for the upcoming monthly Potions project." This followed a series of subtle groans and irritable mutters, choosing wisely to keep them quiet or suffer Snape's wrath.

Snape, deciding he had deducted enough points from all houses, had chosen to ignore the grumpy students and made his way to his desk to dig out a parchment, calling out the names of each pair.

"Mister Crabbe and Mister Finnegan; Mister Thomas and Miss Abbott; Mister Macmillian and Mister Nott; Miss Bulstrode and Miss Patil; Mister Weasley and Miss Parkinson-"

"NO!" Pansy wailed, only to halt her cries when Snape sent her a glare.

The dark-haired professor continued, "Miss Brown and Mister Goyle."

Lavender's face scrunched up in revolt. Although Vincent didn't seem too disturbed to be partnered with, what he and Crabbe would call between themselves, a babe.

"Mister Longbottom and Mister Finch-Fletchley."

The latter two had sighed in relief.

"Mister Zabini and Mister Potter."

Harry sighed, sending his two best friends a shrug with a look that said 'it could've been worse'. The redhead didn't appreciate it as he moved from his seat next to Harry to locate his new partner. One by one the students had begrudgingly shifted towards their chosen pair.

"Mister Malfoy and Miss Granger." This, however, sequenced outraged cries from both participants, their houses, and a few snickers from other students. "Silence!" Snape thundered, and then proceeded to add to everyone, "Let me make it clear when I say, that you may not switch partners and if you even attempt to do so I will not hesitate to seek punishment. My word is final."  
That, however, didn't stop further protests of 'but why her?' and 'why him?' roaring from the two certain students on each end of the classroom.

"Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger," Snape altered gazes between the two, "I will not tolerate your petulant excuses. You either work as a team or you fail equally. Your option."

Hermione gasped indignantly and Malfoy growled, actually growled, underneath his breath. The muggleborn witch sighed and turned to him to see a clear look that said 'well _I'm_ not going to move' on his face. She rolled her eyes at his ever-growing, immature antics, dumped her stuff into her bag and practically dragged herself towards the other side of the now deadly silent classroom, all eyes on her and the Prince of Slytherin. She proceeded to sitting slightly sideways, away from the direction of the new partner she was going to spend the next month with. _Only just a month_, she repeated to herself; so focused on calming her unease she failed to notice Malfoy doing the exact same sideways manoeuvre to avoid her.

Once Snape had completed in calling the list of pairs he instructed them all to take out their books.

"Pay close attention as this will be counted towards your final grade." The professor took a hold of a white chalk and dictated the exam conditions. "Your grading criteria for Potions this year are as follows: fifty percent will be your OWL exam, ten percent from the effort you put in to your classwork and forty from this project alone. Therefore," he placed his palms on his desk, "you better find a way to work with the person now sitting next to you or face repeating this year's curriculum."

A few worried glances were exchanged amongst the students.

Snape seemed satisfied that the information was seeking in to his students' brains. "Now, on page 455, there is a brief summary from the biography of..."

Hermione's arm accidentally brushed against Malfoy's as they both opened their books and the revolted Slytherin immediately pulled back, muttering something along the lines of 'filth' under his breath. Hermione chose to ignore him the rest of the lesson.

**TBC**

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So what do you think, guys?

Reviewers will have Draco for one day, (Malfoy: They most certainly will not!) Don't listen to him, you will.

:)

_Couquette Couver_ = Flirtatious smolder

Mrs-N-Uzumaki xx

P.S. I have no idea who the cover image belongs to btw. If anyone can reference I'd love to give credit.


	2. Chapter 2

So, I'm back!

And out of all the follows and favourites, only one of you will be rewarded to spending the day with Draco!

Thanks a bunch for reviewing, **glitter gal**, he's all yours *dumps a tied and gagged malfoy* (Draco: MMMM!).

Disclaimer: The only thing I own here is the plot. The rest, sadly (or not), belongs to a Mrs Rowling.

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**Chapter 2**

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_Present Day_

The curly-haired witch suppressed a yawn with the back of her hand. It was quarter to nine, fifteen minutes before classes started. She massaged the circles under her eyes to rub away the weary tears.

"Library again?"

Hermione didn't notice the voice speaking next to her until three seconds later. She looked up at Ginny and questioningly apologised.

"Library?" Ginny prodded on. "Studying late again?"

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed in confusion until she realised her friend was referring to her secretive late nights, not that she or anyone else would be aware of it, of course.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "I mean, yes. Very late night. Studying that is!" she quickly covered, and almost mentally slapped herself at the abrupt correction; she always was a terrible liar, and it didn't help that she kept trying to unobtrusively catch the eye of a certain Slytherin across the hall.

Ginny threw her a bemused smile. "What's been up with you lately?"

Hermione's eyebrows rose in a worried manner. "What do you mean?"

"Well for one thing you've been a little jumpy," Harry filled in across from her. Hermione didn't realise her other friends were listening in.

"For another," Ginny continued, "You keep staring off into space."

"Space?"

"Well if you have to be technical - the Slytherin table, but we all know sometimes your head's in the clouds. It's just that you've been doing it more often lately."

Hermione's face heated up guiltily. Luckily, no one seemed to notice.

Ron spoke up next, "I think your brain's going to mentally collapse from all Arithmacy rubbish you've been cramming up there."

"It's not rubbish. The puzzles keep you mentally active. Like how quidditch keeps you physically," Hermione scolded.

Rona scoffed indignantly. "Did she just compare quidditch to _Arithmacy_?" Harry pursed his lips and nodded in a manner of 'I get you, mate', while Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, leave her alone, you sods. She's tired," Ginny threw her a sympathetic smile.

"She's always tired," Ron mumbled. "And quiet for that matter." He turned to his bushy-haired friend. "You need to stop thinking too much."

Hermione scowled. "And you need to stop thinking so little."

The Gryffindor table snickered. Ron blushed. "At least I don't shut out my friends!" he rebuked, earning a croissant thrown in his face from Ginny. Realising his mistake, he corrected, "That didn't come out right."

"Then how was it supposed to come out?" Hermione said, crisply.

"It's just, we don't get to see you much anymore, Hermione," Harry chimed in, trying to save Ron's crashing down explanation.

Hermione chuckled to hide the skip of the beat in her heart, yet a hint of nerves still showing when she said, "We have classes together all day!"

"We mean outside of that," Ron said. "Tell you what, the next Hogsmeade trip is coming up. What do you say we throw out the books for one day and go bonkers in Honeydukes?"

Hermione finally smiled. "I say it's a splendid idea, Ronald."

Ron matched her smile.

Across the table, two beady eyes discreetly recognised the suspicious glint shared between the two.

"Well, till then, Hermione, if you ever need any late night company-" Harry started but was quickly cut off.

"No!" Hermione exclaimed, her smile immediately washing off her face and earning herself a few recoils of surprise from the others. "I mean, that's quite alright. I can manage to get work done quicker on my own. Not that I don't appreciate the offer, Harry." She beamed at the others; Harry shrugged it off eventually and murmured an "if you say so". Hermione checked her watch to avoid wherever the conversation was going to head. "Oh, look at that, classes are about to start."

"But 'Mione," Ron started with his food-filled mouth, a few crumbs charging into the direction of his sister.

"Honestly, Ron," Ginny rebuked. "Could you be any more of a pig?"

Ron ignored her and swallowed. "We still have ten minutes!"

"Well I, for one, would rather stay on McGonagall's good side this morning," Hermione said as she made to stand and accidentally locked eye contact with her nightly yearning. She broke the exchange before he did, all the while her friends jesting that she was always on that teacher's good side. Hermione sent them a mock-glare and headed out the hallway, her friends watching her departure, and failing to realise an extra pair of feet behind her.

Hermione strolled down the hallway, Transfiguration book in hand, and prepared to take a corner when a sudden pair of arms yanked her closer to a pillar, hiding her from the sight of any passers-by.

She panicked a few good seconds, trying to reach for her wand, before recognising the scent of the captor behind her. She stopped struggling within that instant and the hand on her mouth loosened and eventually pulled away as a result; but the other arm still remained around her waist. She turned around in the small space between them and faced the smirk breaking into her captor's features with a scowl.

"I hate it when you do that," Hermione hissed, giving Malfoy a good whack at his arm.

Draco feigned severe injury and scandalously looked at her. "Watch it, Granger, that's my Seeker arm."

"What are you doing anyway, Malfoy?" Hermione scolded. "Weren't we specific about this, _especially_ you?"

"I said no _public_ displays," he said, keeping Hermione from pulling away from his hold, "not _daylight_."

"Well it should apply to that too." His hold was getting tighter; she had to make a grab at his firm, upper arms just to keep herself upright. "We're going to get caught!"

"Oh, loosen up, Granger," he coaxed, his face nuzzling in her neck. "And do try to keep your voice down."

She rolled her eyes, as if she hadn't been doing enough of 'loosening up' with him these past few months. "I mean it, Malfoy!" she said decisively as she lightly pushed him off. The Prince of Slytherin sent her a look comparable to a pout. "Besides, we've both got class in five minutes."

Malfoy smirked as if to say 'challenge accepted' but Hermione's stern 'not now' look immediately had it washed off his face.

"You're no fun," he pestered.

She chuckled. "And to think just the other night you complimented my rebellion streak." She made a turn to walk ahead when Malfoy's arms pulled her back to sensually devour her lips, his hands gripping her upper arms. As he parted her lips with his tongue, she realised this kiss felt slightly different than the other ones he had surrendered her to. This one seemed hungrier, more reckless, daring…_possessive_, and Hermione would be damned if she lied to herself and said she didn't rather enjoy it. It made her feel overwhelmed and slightly empowered for keeping up; and before she could help it, "Mmm," she softly sighed a moan. Just when she started getting into it and pulling his collar downwards with her bare hands to deepen the lip-lock, Draco immediately pulled back and shoved her an arm's length away.

"Honestly, Granger, we're going to get caught!" With that he walked off with a sly expression that practically said 'challenge completed', leaving a very agitated young witch.

xXx

"Where did you run off too?" Blaise had said to Draco when the Malfoy heir emerged through the door of his Transfiguration lesson and took the seat beside him.

Malfoy placed his books and quill onto his desk. "Last time I checked, you weren't my Parole Auror," he said as he bent to the side to lower his bag.

Blaise chuckled darkly. "Think of it as practice."

"It may have slipped your mind, Zabini, but I'm a Slytherin. We don't get caught in the first place. If you think otherwise you're clearly in the wrong house."

Zabini smirked and looked ahead. "You're not as stealthy as you think you are, Draco."

Malfoy scoffed. "I have as much of a chance getting caught as your next stepfather avoiding his, let's say, outcome."

Blaise raised his eyebrow. If he was offended, he didn't show it. "You think I haven't been noticing your empty bed during the late nights?"

Draco looked nothing more than amused. "You might want to rephrase that."

"C'mon, Draco," he leaned closer to his classmate. "Who is it?"

"I haven't the slightest clue what you're on about," he replied without missing a beat.

"Don't insult my intelligence. It may have slipped _your_ mind, but I'm just about as Slytherin as you are; and I'm also not one of your dim-witted cronies. So, what're you hiding?"

"Perhaps from your incessant interrogations about what happens in my life."

"How else do you expect me to get through the year? Your life is like one of those muggle dramas."

Malfoy dryly huffed. "I'm sorry; I forgot I've got to report every single episode of my life to you for your personal entertainment purposes. Let me just go get my diary so we can bawl over our passions and down our feelings in chocolate frogs and No-Melt Ice-cream."

Blaise wasn't the least bit fazed. Malfoy did have the tendency to become especially sardonic when he got defensive. "Ah, so you finally decided to act on that man-crush you have on Nott?"

"Sod off, Zabini. And take those relentless questions with you."

Blaise chuckled, and as if on cue, Professor McGonagall sauntered into the classroom with her robes swerving around her feet.

"Settle down, everyone. Settle down," she said, her voice bouncing across the walls of the room. "Today, we will be going over the assignment I've set last week on the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell. That being said, I still expect you all to practise the Vanishing spell in your own time." She smiled fondly at her brightest student, Hermione, who had managed to perfect the Vanishing Spell, therefore rewarded by being excluded from this particular homework; though it did not stop her from contributing anyway. "I have marked these essays," the professor continued as she handed out her students' written work, "and found myself very disappointed in most of you. With the exception of Miss Granger, it seems that only one other student managed to achieve an outstandingly detailed thesis. I've made a few copies to hand out to set an example. Mr Malfoy, you should be proud of this essay."

Draco looked up and raised his eyebrow, a smug smile inevitably about to break into his features, ignoring the bitter grumbles from opposing houses. He turned to share a look with his equally intellectual competition (not that he would ever admit that out loud, of course). Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

_She could've used my essay too_, Hermione thought, not that she wasn't quite proud of him. Her eyes swayed down the words of the lengthy copy of Draco's essay that was just given to her by McGonagall, her mind filled with genuinely impressed thoughts.

"How does this git do it?" Ron said beside her, who was glumly looking at his poorly graded work and the Slytherin's O-graded work beside it.

"Being a git doesn't usually make you any less academically intelligent," she absently input. She didn't realise her mistake until Ron and Harry, who was sitting on the table beside them with Neville, turned to gawk at her silently. Had she just defended Malfoy? Hang on, had she just _complimented_ Malfoy?

Yes. Yes, she did.

Hermione tried to come up with a reproach but the Professor had continued her lecture out loud. She mutely thanked her teacher.

When they had reached near the end of the lecture, Professor McGonagall finalised with, "I expect the rest of you to hand in a revised version of your essays by tomorrow." Everyone made to stand, preparing to leave for their next lesson. "Oh, Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy, please see me at the end of the lesson."

Hermione and Malfoy exchanged confused glances. Harry and Ron turned to her with slight concern at the fact that her name was called out next to their enemy's.

"I'll see you in Charms," Hermione reassured. With pats on her shoulder they turned to exit, along with the rest of the class, leaving her and Malfoy with the teacher; during which she couldn't help but let that seed of worry implanted in her mind that roared 'BUSTED!' grow increasingly.

But that couldn't be. No one knew about their nightly encounters, they made sure of it…right?

She turned to face Draco. To anyone else, his impassive gaze exhibited elegant nonchalance. To her, his eyes screamed with just the same amount of worry, if not more. She decided to follow his example and stick her nose up with the same amount of indifference.

But that didn't ease the curiosity of what was about to be discussed.

**TBC**

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Okay, fellow readers, be little dears and review for me. I need a little encouragement here :)

Till next time,

Mrs-N-Uzumaki xx


	3. Chapter 3

What's this? ANOTHER update?

That's right! You guys left me in a great mood when you reviewed! And I decided I should reward you by updating much sooner than later!

Thank you so much, my fellow Dramioners! I'd offer you Draco for the day but I think the poor boy's still recovering from his earlier, um, _hectic_ day.

So he'll just offer you virtual hugs instead (Malfoy: No, I will not!) And he says he loves you all (Malfoy: SOD OFF!).

Disclaimer: *checks purse* Hello?..._hello...ello...llo..lo_...hmm. Well, on the other hand, I _do_ however own the _**Tale of Austerius**_. So, please, **DO**** NOT** use without permission and crediting.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

* * *

_Four months earlier_

"It specifically says to cut square pieces."

"For the last time, you know-it-all wench, I _am _cutting square pieces."

"No, you're not, they're rectangle," Hermione corrected, ignoring, for what seemed to be, his forty-third remark since they started half an hour ago; half an hour of metaphorical hair pulling, snide comebacks, snarling teeth and not one single agreement.

Malfoy vigorously exhaled through his nose. She was getting on his last nerves, nerves he didn't even know he still possessed for this incessantly pretentious bitch.

"Who is the better Potions student here, Granger?"

Hermione shot him a glare, defiantly looking up at him. "I think you mean the more 'favoured' because we both know daddy is in good graces with the professor."

It was Draco's turn to shoot her a glare. That was it. "You think you're so capable of doing this seventh-year advanced concoction that _two_ people are supposed to make on your own then, by all means, go ahead." With that, he dropped the knife he held on the table with a clank and stormed out the room. "And for your information," he turned to face her, one hand leaning towards the door, "I happen to work my arse off to get those well-deserved marks."

"I didn't say-"

He cut her off before she could finish; after spending a horrific amount of time with the person he hated almost as much as that annoying Scarhead and letting her infest his ear with her practical bragging, he reached the end of his very thin thread of endurance, "So why don't you mount off that high and infuriatingly shrewd horse of yours and stop proudly patting yourself at the back for thinking you're the only student with wits in the year, you stuck-up windbag."

The instant he took off Hermione let out growl so vicious she could've sent Malfoy a run for his money. He was being way out of line. She never said she was the only smart student; certainly there were many others who got high marks in her year - of course, not as high as hers – and she didn't claim he didn't work for those grades, much to her surprise that he admitted it. So what the hell was his problem? The fact that he was so intimidated by these 'wits' of hers that he had to rant about it to her face?

It shouldn't surprise her that he would be anyway. He did like to think he was better than everyone, the immature hypocrite, and he did have an ego the size of a whale.

"Egotistical prat," she hissed as she took the knife. "FINE. I'll do it on my own then," she declared to no one in particular. She looked over her ingredient and positioned the knife. She made an attempt to cut straight but the knife swerved underneath the slippery ingredient and the result ended up slanted. "Shoot!"

Just then, Malfoy had reappeared into the room. Hermione poked her head up in surprise as he wordlessly made his way back to collect his forgotten bag. His eyes caught sight of Hermione's poor attempt, a corner of his mouth threatening to rise condescendingly.

Hermione absently pointed the knife at him. "Not a word!"

Draco's eyes almost bulged out of his skull. "Watch where you point that thing, you swot," he shoved the knife away from his chest.

Hermione scowled and carelessly tossed the knife towards the table with a resounding clink. "That's it. Enough. I've had it with your insults, Malfoy! You've been at it the whole time we were forced to be paired up and I'm getting sick and tired of it."

He equalled her scowl. "It's not as if you're the innocent party here-"

"Yes, I contributed my fair share of them, but only because you keep giving me reasons to. And for _your _information, I happen to work my arse off too to get my well-deserved marks; the difference between us is that I don't stick my nose up in superiority and make everyone else feel inferior about themselves; unlike someone else-" she poked his chest, he swatted it away, "-in this room."

Malfoy scoffed dryly. "You sure about that, Granger?"

She placed her hands on her hips. "What are you talking about?"

"You honestly think it escapes everyone when you correct those pathetic Gryffindors even if they so much as to exhale incorrectly?"

"I do not-"

"And don't get me started on those mindless apes you lug around."

"Leave Harry and Ron out of-"

"And the best part is – my favourite part of it all - you _enjoy_ it!"

"_What?_"

"Admit it, Mudblood," he smirked, "you get off of it."

What happened next wasn't the verbal response Draco had been looking for. Instead, he had taken a blow to the face, earning himself a stinging sensation on the cheek and consequently throwing his mental script out the window. The action rendered him in stunned silence for the second time.

"You will not speak to me like that again, Malfoy," she said breathlessly after a moments of silence. "Not if we're going to have to spend more hours together perfecting this project."

Malfoy swallowed. But unlike last time, he didn't bother backing down; he didn't urge himself to remain in control and keep a cool head while he walked away like he did that third year. This time, she was not going to slap his face like some kind of perverted vermin and get away with it the second time.

Draco Malfoy stood his full height, towering over the petite Gryffindor. His cold, stormy eyes blazing in intense fury met her equally angered and slightly overwhelmed brown orbs. He could see that her fingers twitched by her hip, indicating that she was prepared to use magical force if she had to.

He stepped closer. She remained immobile.

"I trust you're trying to find a way around your differences," a third, sudden voice interjected, startling the two and cutting through the concentrated, momentary spar of heated gazes. Hermione and Malfoy immediately turned their heads to their Potions teacher who had composedly strolled into the rivalling students' battlefield, eyeing them suspiciously.

For a moment, neither of them had said a word; until Hermione gathered her wits once more and plucked up the courage to step in, "Of course, Professor, we were just…experimenting, hence our disagreements."

Snape made a move closer to their bubbling cauldron and mentally judged it with a raised eyebrow. His eyes then caught side of Malfoy's face, a noticeable red mark now appearing. Snape turned to the young girl.

"Whatever these disagreements result in, I hope they are in course of being sorted out. Or I will sort them out for you," he lowly hissed in a threatening manner. "Unless, of course, I'm in need to intervene at the present time?"

Hermione swallowed, not daring to look Malfoy in the eye. "No, sir."

Snape looked at his favourite student. "Are you…quite sure?"

Malfoy looked away and grimaced. "That is something I finally agree on with Granger." There was no way he'd tell Snape he was beaten by a girl…again. And by Granger no less.

"Hmm," Snape contemplated. "Good." He walked towards the exit, "By the by, your concoction is emitting a substantial amount of hues of blue. I don't have to tell the two best students in the class what it's supposed to look like in its first stage." The flushed faces on his students almost made the whole, evidently crashing ordeal worth it. Almost.

The professor made his way out, leaving Hermione and Malfoy to deal with the aftermath of the Potion mix. Hermione decided to move from her spot first, but was immediately pulled back with a vicious grip on her forearm. She turned to face the violent, grey eyes of her Potions partner.

"I may have let your filthy hand get away with marking my face twice now," Malfoy hissed, "but don't think I won't retaliate if you even consider raising your hand at me again. Do I make myself clear?"

Hermione snatched her arm from his iron grip. "You don't scare me, Malfoy." Suddenly, she couldn't stand looking at him.

Before Hermione gave him a chance to respond she grabbed her bag and left him to deal with the clearing up. She had reached the end of her rope of dealing with the Malfoy heir that day. And the worst part was - she knew it wasn't going to get any easier.

xXx

_Present day_

Hermione rolled over the large, old sofa that she had transfigured using her cloak and into the tired arms of the platinum-blond beside her, letting her head rest against the placid sound of his beating heart. She inhaled his light, luscious scent of peppermint cologne, sighing in pleasure. Her index finger stroked circles on his firm, upper, open-shirted torso.

It was just after 10 PM, they were still in their uniforms, neither having the time during the day to get back to their dormitories to change. Their ties, shoes and socks were abandoned on the floor next to them, allowing their toes to brush freely against each other's.

Draco's robes wrapped them at the waist and below. His arm, encircling Hermione's side, caressed her upper arm with his thumb, while his other hand supported the nape of his neck, his elbow sticking out. Eyes closed, they cocooned in each other's bodily warmth from the vicious January breeze piercing through the room.

Then, breaking the momentary tranquillity, Hermione felt the chest beneath her vibrate slightly. She looked up to realise Malfoy was chuckling quietly.

She smiled and rested her chin on his torso. "What're you laughing about?"

"The look on your face when you thought we were busted earlier."

She lightly chortled with him. "_Me_? What about _you_?"

"What about me? I was as smooth as the purest satin silk out there…and the most expensive," he gave her the infamous, Malfoy quick-eyebrow-raise, while biting his bottom lip in an almost suggestive manner.

She snorted. "Please, don't think I didn't notice your twitchy fingers when McGonagall was eyeballing you."

Malfoy shuddered, not necessarily from the cold. "It's like the old bat was seeing into my soul."

She let the insult of her favourite teacher slide. "_You displayed an exceptional example of House unity and teamwork_," Hermione quoted.

"Merlin," he scoffed, "it was just a forced partnership in Potions mixing, not an alliance in some kind of blasted warzone."

Hermione pursed her lips in a careless manner and shrugged. "I prefer to think of it as a compulsory camaraderie."

"That's a mouthful, ain't it?" he mumbled. "Wait, that would insinuate-"

"I know," she cut him off. She didn't want to turn this into a verbal combat, thus opted to refrain from the real retort just waiting to slip from the tip of her tongue.

Draco, not wanting to pursue a conversation that would inevitably morph into an argument, continued to a different path and held his tongue. He inhaled deeply and stared back at the ceiling.

"Well, she was right about one thing," Hermione said.

"And what's that?"

"That we accomplished a perfect, advanced Potions brew and achieved a progressive understanding of Transfiguration that no other fifth year ever attained before us."

Draco smiled smugly. "She was right about another thing too."

Hermione gave him a lopsided smile, her elbows now leaning on his chest. "And what's that?"

"That we did unite…" She raised her eyebrow, the motion urging him to continue, "…though a lot more voluptuous than she was implying."

Hermione giggled and moved up to sensually moisten his bottom lip, her elbow supporting her weight on the sofa. Malfoy reciprocated with appreciation by submitting some lip-dampening of his own. This continued in slow motion, a vapour of bliss surrounding their locked tower; when their lips fused in a fervent haze, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

Draco's hand, previously residing behind his neck, lowered to his partner's waist as he raised her thigh to line it across his upper legs. His hand then dug below the hem of her school shirt; he had wanted to loosen the buttons on her shirt earlier just as she had done for him, but she only kept on lightly brushing his hand away at every attempt, and so he finally gave up and just focused on swirling his tongue on hers.

Now his hand trailed up her back and then down her spine, causing a new emission of bumps to cast over her arms. He toyed with the clasp of her bra, teasing the idea of undoing it. Hermione didn't complain. In fact, she responded with a bit of her own teasing by sliding her free hand down his torso and stopping just by his belly button to rub his abdomen. Malfoy, not expecting the quite provocative manoeuvre, surprised himself when the action reduced his hips to a slight, involuntary thrust; and momentarily forgetting that his hand was residing on her back, Draco pulled her closer during the motion.

Hermione exhaled a gasp of surprise, but wasn't repelled. Actually, she quite relished in the fact that she, an average looking plain Jane, could bring out such an erotic side to the cocky, striking Malfoy heir; the same Malfoy heir that the girls in her year and below only fantasised about being with and seeing him reduced to a famished wolf, baying for the soft, but demanding, touch of the opposite sex.

Hermione then sat up, cradling his hips, to reach for her black, hair claw, and releasing the pressure of the tightened hold, letting her wild curls flow down gently thereafter, all the while Draco watching her with hungered eyes. She tossed the large clip towards the floor, the clatter not registering with either of them through the lusty miasma now heaving around them. Spurred by her movement, Draco lifted his upper body and captured her lips in his, while swiftly and effortlessly twisting her body with his arms so that he overcame her. Hermione cried out a moan of surprise without releasing the hold of her mouth on his.

Once they broke apart for air, Malfoy brought his jaw towards her neck, biting tenderly at the flesh. He heard Granger mumble something. "Hm?" he said hazily, continuing on his mission of skin nibbling.

"…teruis," she said.

Finally, Malfoy looked up. "What?" He rested his elbows either side of her arms, while she played with his open collar.

"The other night…" She felt slightly self-conscious now. "You compared me to…an Austerius?"

Malfoy raised his eyebrow before catching on. "_Oh_. You still on about that?"

"I'm just curious," she pouted, shrugging in a childlike manner.

"What, you've never heard of the Austerius fable?"

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head beneath him.

"Come off it!" he snickered. "It's quite a popular wizarding tale."

"Well," she began, hesitant to mention her muggle upbringing, "I grew up with stories from the Grimm Brothers' Snow white or Rapunzel," he shook his head at her mentions, "How about Beauty and the Beast?...Um, Red Riding Hood?" Draco shrugged. "Cinderella?"

He snorted. "Sounds like a disease."

Choosing to ignore him, Hermione continued, "Peter Pan?"

"The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up," Draco said, knowingly. At Hermione's astonished stare, he added, "Written by the famous, 20th Century Scottish wizard."

Hermione sat up in discovering this news about one of her favourite authors. "Barrie was a wizard?" She cushioned her side on the forefront of the sofa.

He nodded. "My mother used to read me his tales." Draco then rested his elbow on the sofa, facing her, while cradling his head with his hand. "But you wanted to hear about Austerius?"

She nodded eagerly.

"Well, firstly, Austerius is the Latin meaning for-"

"Stern," Hermione answered quickly, smugly.

Draco didn't appreciate the interruption. "Do you want me to tell the story or not, Miss Smart-Ass?"

She smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, continue."

"Austerius," he stressed out, "like his name, was a stern, stickler for rules and routine-" at Hermione's outraged guise Draco held up a hand to stop her from interjecting again, "-who had the chance to pursue what could've been an opportunity of a lifetime." He rested his back on the couch and proceeded with the tale. "He was the head of his household – the house in which he had grown up in, he had enough money to go by in life; but never had he left his hometown, or pursued an adventure of his own. One day, when he was travelling home, undergoing the same forest pathway he had been his entire life, a golden box magically appeared before him." At this point, Hermione rested her head against his shoulder, drawn into the story. "And on top of that box, laid a note that promised him great fortune if he lifted the lid."

"And?" Hermione prodded, looking up at him.

"And…" he looked down at her, "he didn't. He turned the opposite direction and never looked back. Guess he didn't have the pair to do it, in case it was a ruse."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "I see it a lot more differently than you do."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course you do, Granger."

She ignored his remark. "To me, this story sounds more about being grateful for what you already have. He looked the other way maybe because he felt that he already had great fortune in his life."

"Hm," Malfoy contemplated in thought and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Never really thought of it that way."

"Come to think of it," she leaned into his embrace, "this reminds me a little bit of the Grimm Brothers' _The_ _Golden_ _Key_. About how a poor boy gathering wood with a sleigh wants to warm himself by a fire and finds a small golden key beneath the snow; then he finds a small iron box in the ground."

"And?"

"And the story ends with the statement that the reader now has to wait until he has unlocked it."

"So in either story, we don't ever get to find out what was in the boxes."

"And that's why God gifted us with imagination."

He exhaled a chortle before sobering up. "That's the second time you mentioned the 'Grimm Brothers', by the way."

"Well, they pretty much set the foundation for fairytales."

Draco scoffed.

"I'm serious! Tell you what; I'll lend you a copy of some of their work-"

"_Muggle_ reading?" he bared an expression of utter revolt. "No, thank you." She moved from his shoulder and whacked him, to which he retorted, "Okay, I'm serious about that Seeker arm now!"

"Then I'll keep doing it unless you read at least _one_ of their fairytales."

Draco threw his head back. "Ugh, _fine_."

Hermione immediately beamed at him. "Oooh, there's so many to choose from!"

Granger rambled on and on about what story he would enjoy, leaving Draco drowning most of it out, and a half-hearted thought of '_what have I gotten myself into?_' running through his mind.

**TBC**

* * *

I hated how I ended it here. I felt like I could've written more, but it already went way over my chapter word limit for the story. Not to mention, it was already 3:30 AM and my brain was a split second from turning into a giant pancake.

SO.

Review, guys! Please! Por favor! s'il vous plait! Gefallen! Per favore! Kudasai! (You get the idea).

Mrs-N-Uzumaki xx


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